


I've had worse

by asamandra



Category: Marvel, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fury talks to Tony, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Nick Fury POV, Prompt Fill, Tony got captured, and raped, avengerkink, but he was traumatized, he has problems to cope, slight mention of homophobic language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-29
Updated: 2014-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-27 11:37:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2691509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asamandra/pseuds/asamandra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Tony got captured and raped he lashed out when Clint tried to calm him down. Fury talks to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I've had worse

**Author's Note:**

> This prompt at avengerkink: [Tony/OMC, Clint/Any, "I've had worse""No way" (NonCon/rape, violence)](http://avengerkink.livejournal.com/19994.html?thread=48830234#t48830234)
> 
> straight!Tony got captured and raped, when Avengers came to rescue Clint tried to calm him down by telling him how he coped with it himself, and said something like "I know how you feel, I've been through worse." But Tony just lashed out because WTF, this was already HELL it couldn't be any worse YOU FUCKING LIAR, and you were GAY so NO WAY you knew how I felt so JUST FUCK OFF.
> 
> Any was kind of annoyed, he knew what Clint had been though, which was MUCH worse, he had barely survived, but of course he couldn't blame Tony, so he said nothing, just hugged Clint who pretended to be not hurt by Tony's words and offered comfort.
> 
> bonus:  
> After Tony finally got over it weeks later, he came to apologize for the gay part, because he was not such an asshole really. Though he still didn't believe the worse part and thought Clint was just trying to give white lies.
> 
> Whether Any told him what had happened to Clint before is up to author

“Do you know where he is?” Nick asked Ms. Potts when he entered her office. She leaned back, nodded and sighed. Of course she knew where he was and she didn't even need to ask to know whom he meant. Tony Stark. 

“He's in his house in Malibu,” she said after a few seconds of quietness. Nick nodded and wanted to turn around to leave the office. “He needs to be alone, Director Fury.” 

“Did he say that?” He looked over his shoulder, already half on his way back to the door.

“I know that.” She said and Nick took a deep breath and finally looked at her again.

“Unfortunately, you're wrong. Both of you.” He opened the door and left the office. On his way to the elevator he already called his assistant. “I need a quinjet. I have to fly to Malibu.” 

He drove back to SHIELD's NY base and he saw a quinjet with running engines waiting on the tarmac. He entered the aircraft and Agent Porter, the pilot, looked at him. 

“Ready?” He asked and the young woman nodded. 

“Yes, sir,” she said. Nick took a seat in the back and buckled up while Porter closed the hatch. 

He leaned back and closed his eyes (yes, even the damaged one. For some mysterious reasons everyone seems to believe he would close only his _good_ eye). The flight would take a few hours, even with a quinjet, and he intended to take a nap. As director of SHIELD he had to use an opportunity like this.

“Sir, we're here,” Porter said some time later and Nick opened his eyes. He stifled a yawn, nodded and rose. 

“You can take a break, I'll need some time. I let you know when we fly back.” 

“Yes, sir.” Porter nodded, smiled and left the jet. Nick followed her and when both were outside Porter closed the hatch and went to the main building of SHIELD's LA base while Nick went to the car pool where a SUV was waiting for him. 

 

 

Nick shut off the engine and stared at the house in front of him. He had seen it before and he still thought it was the ugliest building ever. He took a deep breath. He knew that the conversation he had to have with Stark wouldn't be easy. After a long moment of just staring out of the windshield he finally opened the door and left the SUV.

He didn't bother with knocking, he just opened the door. He knew that – technically – JARVIS could lock him out but he also knew that the AI wouldn't do it. Stark needed help and JARVIS knew that as well. 

Nick looked around but the house was as clean and unwelcoming as usual. He went to the stairs and descended to Stark's workshop. Of course he saw the man in it or more precisely his feet. The rest of Stark lay on a creeper under one of his classic cars. He looked up at the camera and JARVIS opened the door and let him in, even turned the music down and he nodded his thanks, once, brief.

“JARVIS, what the fuck...” Stark grumbled and he came out from under the car but when he saw Nick he rolled his eyes and leaned his hands on his knees and stared up at him. “What do you want?” He spat.

“I want to talk to you, Mr. Stark. And since you refused to come to my office I'll come up to you.” 

“The great Nick Fury himself.” Stark snorted, grabbed a dirty rag and tried to clean his hands. With a sigh he rose and went to his coffee maker. “Coffee?” He asked over his shoulder but he didn't wait for an answer. He filled two mugs with the black, hot liquid and shoved one in Nick's hand. “I know why you're here. But I've already apologized to Barton,” he said and sat down on a roller stool.

“I know,” Nick said and searched for another stool. He found one under one of the workbenches and sat down. “At least partly,” he added then. 

Stark's head snapped up. “I know that my comment about him not knowing what I went through because he's gay and does this voluntarily all the time was way below the belt and I've apologized, Fury. What else do you expect? I know that he made up this story to calm me down and...” 

“Is that what you really think, Stark?” Nick asked and cocked his head. 

“Are you kidding? These guys... these monsters! They tortured me, Fury, they held me down and one after the other...” he stopped for a second and licked his lips, “... they... they raped me. Again and again and again. For days. You think...” he stopped again and wiped his face. Nick could see tears in his eyes.

“Stark... Tony. I know it was horrible what these men did to you and I would never talk it down. But do you really think – after all that happened now, after all that happened to you in Afghanistan - that it can't be worse?” 

“Did Rogers send you?” Stark squinted his eyes together and glared furiously at him now. 

“No. He knows that I'm here, though. I've talked to him and to Barton and they both understand that you didn't mean it.” 

Stark cast his eyes down and took a sip from his mug.

“You think it can't get worse? Honestly? Humans are very ingenious when it comes to hurting each other. You'd be surprised about all the stuff me and my agents have seen so far. Let me tell you a story,” he said and Stark snorted but still didn't look up. 

“A bedtime story?” Stark wanted to turn around.

“No. It's a SHIELD story. One of my first missions as Assistant Director, sixteen years ago.” 

“Oh, a historical drama then?” Stark snorted again and Nick just sighed and ignored his interjection.

“You ever heard of the Mantegna cartel?” 

“No. Should I?” 

“Probably not. But you never know until you ask. However, one of my first missions as Assistant Director. I still had to prove myself and Director McDonnell sent me and my team to shut them down. The Mantegna cartel was really dangerous at this time. Terrorism, assassinations, arms trade, human trafficking, prostitution. They were active from Miami up to Boston, nearly the whole East Coast was in their clutches. It took us lots of time but we found them. All of them.” 

“That's very interesting, Fury. But I have work to do and...” Stark tried to rise and walk away.

“Put your ass back on that stool,” Nick snapped and the genius obeyed immediately. And when he saw him flinch Nick felt a tiny bit of remorse.

“The Mantegnas. They had a... well... a _base_ in New York and we shut them down. There was this fancy club but it was just a nice façade. We busted them.” 

Stark sighed, slightly annoyed, and grabbed the two empty mugs, went back to the coffee maker to refill them. When he had placed one of them back in front of Nick he sat down and waited for him to continue.

“It was ugly and we killed a lot of them but one of the worst things I've ever seen was in the basement. We found the room by accident.” Nick closed his eyes for a second and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I followed this guy and... he shot at me and I killed him. And then I entered the room.” He sighed again. The memory of his discovery was a bad one. After all this years he still had nightmares sometimes. He would never admit it, though. 

“There was this cage in the room.” He took a sip of his coffee and Stark cocked his head. He listened carefully even if he pretended to be annoyed. 

“It was... small. About three feet in each direction. At first I've thought they had a dog in it but... it was a boy.” He still could see him in the small cage when he closed his eyes. “His own brother had sold him to the Mantegnas and they had locked him in the cage, tied and collared to the bars. He could barely move and he was in a really bad condition. And I mean, he was more dead than alive.” 

Stark rose again, opened the cupboard beside the coffee maker, took the bottle of Scotch and went back to the workbench. He shoved the bottle over to him and Nick took it, added some to his coffee and took another sip. 

“We took him to the hospital and – honestly – no one would've placed a bet on the boy. The Mantegna cartel had him for months. They wanted him to work for them.” He took another sip and watched Stark emptying his coffee and filling only Scotch in his mug. “He was seventeen when we found him, Stark. Sixteen when his brother sold him. And what they had done to him...” He stopped and shook his head.

“What did they do to him?” Stark asked quietly. 

“He got tortured, his whole back, his legs, his chest, the soles of his feet were covered in welts, cuts, burn marks, some of them badly inflamed. They beat him so hard that he had lost most of his hearing. They starved him, he weighed barely 90 pounds. He was dehydrated. But that wasn't the worst.” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “They had raped him, Tony. Brutally. For months. When we had him in the hospital the surgeons had to remove a few inches of his colon – it was too shredded – and he lost one of his testicles. At one point they had nailed it down onto a table to whip him.”

“Oh my god,” Stark muttered and drank down his Scotch. “What... what happened to him?” He asked.

“He survived. It took more than half a year but he survived.” He stopped and when Stark looked up – Nick could see the shock in his eyes – he sighed. “And then, when he was recovered, we recruited him,” he added.

“Barton?” He asked and Nick nodded slowly. 

“Yes. The Mantegnas wanted him to be their killer. He refused. For seven months he was tortured, raped, humiliated, held in a tiny cage, starved but he fought. When he told you that he went through worse he told you the truth, Mr. Stark.”

“How do I know that _you_ tell me the truth?” Stark asked and Nick smiled a tiny bit.

“I... we knew you would say this. And Barton allowed me to give you these,” he said and reached into his coat, took the folder he had there and gave it to Stark. The genius looked at it sceptically but when Nick gestured that he should open it, he did. And then he paled.

“Oh god, this is...” Stark slapped his hand over his mouth and barely managed to stumble over to a waste bucket before he emptied his stomach. 

“That's the official case file. Coulson took the photos before the surgery. As you can see, they didn't damage his arms, his hands or his eyes. That's what they wanted. The rest of him was fair game.”

“How... how could he survive this?” Stark mumbled, again staring at the gruesome pictures and swallowing hard.

“He's a fighter. And he said he knows that you are one, too. He said, he knows that you can survive this ordeal. You survived Afghanistan and you'll survive this.” 

“It... it hurt so bad. And they didn't stop.” Stark whispered and Fury nodded.

“Talk to him. If there's one person who can understand you, it's Barton. He can and he wants to help you.” 

“After all I've said?” Stark looked up and Nick saw the pain in his eyes.

“Maybe you should avoid meeting Rogers the first time. He was pretty pissed off. Apparently your comments resulted in sleepless nights for him and nightmares for Barton,” Nick said and shrugged apologetically.

“Guess I really need to say sorry.” Stark filled more Scotch in his mug but this time Nick didn't let him drink it, he reached over, took it out of his hand and emptied it in one big swallow. 

“Alcohol is no solution,” he said and Stark snorted.

“No, it's a distillate.” 

“Okay, the bad puns work again.” Nick chuckled and rose. “I'll fly back to NY in a few. Get dressed and come with me. A quinjet is waiting.” 

Stark looked up and sighed. But then he rose as well and went to the door. 

“Give me five minutes, Fury.” 

Nick smiled inwardly. He knew that Stark was a fighter, too. And he also knew that Barton would help him cope with his trauma. He could survive. The world still needs Iron Man.

He took the file and left the house, climbed behind the wheel of his SUV and waited for Stark. Five minutes later he left his house and opened the passenger's door. Nick smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> [asamandra on tumblr](http://asamandra.tumblr.com/)


End file.
